


Venn Diagram

by Annie D (scaramouche)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, Castiel POV, Consent Issues, Established Relationship, Future Fic, M/M, Post-War, Schmoop, mental damage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-08
Updated: 2010-04-08
Packaged: 2017-10-08 18:55:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/78535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scaramouche/pseuds/Annie%20D
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Apocalypse has been averted, but Dean and Castiel didn't get out of it unscathed. They eventually manage to find a happy ending, of sorts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Venn Diagram

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Диаграмма Венна](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4807571) by [Koryuu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Koryuu/pseuds/Koryuu)



> **Contains:** Consent issues due to Dean and Castiel's mental states.

The sky is pale grey outside the window. In an hour or so there will be enough sunlight to cast interesting shadows on the bedsheets and the two figures tangled up inside them.

One figure is already awake despite the early hour, lying on his side and braced on one elbow to watch the other sleep. Were one to pry into his thoughts, one would discover that he is thinking of miracles, and how he’d spent a lifetime not believing in them. He will certainly not accept _this_ one at face value, but he is tired enough and selfish enough to wait a while before pushing. He knows better than to ask the world for anything, but a small part of him – the part that still yearns to believe in magic that doesn’t come with a price – wants his reward.

He pulls at the bedsheet gently, revealing dark hair that looks darker than usual when lain against the white pillow. The owner of the hair is still asleep, but even in unconsciousness he disapproves of being disturbed, so he burrows deeper under the covers.

The first figure grins. He takes the clock from the side table, pressing buttons to adjust the alarm. Once done, he sets the clock on the pillow between them and waits.

A minute later the clock starts screaming. There is a sharp cry from beneath the covers, followed by two hands flailing wildly. There is laughter, soft swearing and then a pair of bright blue eyes narrowed in annoyance. “Dean.”

“Cas, if there’s anything worth waking up early for,” Dean says, “It’s celebration sex.”

Castiel looks confused for a moment, but sleepiness wins out and his eyes drift shut again. Dean doesn’t care that Castiel is already halfway unconscious, and makes quick work of tugging the clothes that are get in the way of him and his prize. Castiel makes an annoyed sound, frustrated when Dean’s fingers effortlessly draw lines of pleasure along his body, pulling him against his will into the land of the waking.

“Oh, so now you want it,” Dean snickers softly, which earns him another glare. Dean doesn’t mind, and neither does Castiel the moment that Dean lowers his head and takes Castiel’s stiffening cock into his mouth. He sucks and Castiel whimpers, finally culminating when the wet heat of Dean’s mouth tears a breathless orgasm from Castiel’s body.

Castiel leans up to kiss that mouth after, which makes Dean raise his eyebrows.

“Was that wrong?” Castiel asks.

“No,” Dean says quickly. “No, that was nice.”

They kiss lazily, Dean fitting himself over Castiel’s pliant body and rutting gently. After a while Castiel slides his hand between them to fist Dean’s erection.

“Yeah, right there,” Dean says breathlessly. “Fuck, I need this. Do that twisty thing, you know how I like it.”

Castiel goes still.

Dean slows the roll of his hips. “Cas?”

Where Castiel had been relaxed, he is now tense. He runs his fingers along Dean’s cock tentatively. The touch makes Dean gasp, but Castiel does not stop looking anxious.

Dean puts his hand over Castiel’s, pausing his movement. “What’s up, Cas?”

The confession is barely a whisper. Dean has to ask Castiel to repeat himself twice before he finally catches the soft, “I don’t remember how you like it.” Dean doesn’t understand, so Castiel says, a little louder, “I don’t remember anything from before. It was part of the sacrifice, so that I may have this.” He waves his hand vaguely at Dean, the bed, the room.

Dean’s eyebrows twitch as he processes this. “The angels took your memories from you?”

Castiel briefly looks confused again, but then worry overtakes that emotion when Dean’s face contorts in anger. He grabs Dean’s forearms, hoping that he will listen. “Don’t be angry, Dean! I am content to have this.”

“But if you don’t remember...” Dean jerks free of Castiel’s hold, expression horrified and erection flagging. “Why did you let me...?”

Castiel’s face falls at the new distance between them. “The first memory I have is of the first true breath I took, while in your arms. You kissed me, then, and when I looked at you, I knew that I loved you. I may not remember how we met, or if we had kissed before, but something of the emotion must have stayed behind, for my heart knew you regardless of the context.”

“Oh my god...” Dean looks like he is about to throw up.

“It was this way, or not at all,” Castiel says simply.

“Don’t say that!” Dean pulls the bedsheet to cover his nakedness, never mind what they had been doing but minutes earlier. “You don’t even know me and you let me do that to you? Why didn’t you say something?”

“It didn’t seem necessary.”

“You were pretending!” Dean falls off the bed, grabbing at his shorts and shirt to pull them on. “I knew there was... Fuck, why didn’t I notice? I thought there was something off, you were so quiet last night... But I thought that was just you being in shock of turning completely human!”

Castiel looks confused again. “I know that I would not have made such a choice if I did not believe it worthwhile.”

“Holy shit!” Dean falls from the bed, grabbing at his shorts and shirt to pull them on. In a heartbeat he’s out the door and shouting for his brother, leaving Castiel sitting quietly on the bed, alone and thoughtful.

Dean returns with Sam in tow, the three of them a tableau of awkwardness in the bedroom.

“What are we going to do?” Dean says, gesturing at Castiel.

Sam opens and closes his mouth a few times before finally settling on, “We’ll figure out something.”

Dean turns away, muttering softly to himself.

Sam and Castiel exchange a look; Sam is worried, and Castiel is contemplative.

* * *

The sky is pale grey outside the window. Dean is already awake despite the early hour, braced on one elbow to watch Castiel sleep. He pulls at the bedsheet gently, revealing dark hair that looks darker than usual against the white pillow beneath. The owner of the hair rolls over, making a soft noise of irritation.

Dean grins, reaching out for the clock on the dresser and pressing buttons to adjust the alarm. He sets the clock on the pillow between them and waits.

A minute later the alarm starts screaming. A hand emerges from the sheets, grabs the clock and shoves it hard at Dean’s chest. “It is too early for anything but sleep, Dean.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong,” Dean says, grabbing fistfuls of blankets and pulling. “If there’s anything worth waking up early for, it’s celebration sex.”

Castiel blinks blearily up at Dean once the sheets are out of the way. Dean leans down for a kiss but Castiel turns away, rolling over in apparent determination to ignore his companion. Dean decides that maybe Castiel has a point, for morning breath can be pretty nasty. He pulls at the cloth separating him for his prize, the cloth in this case being Castiel’s boxers, pulling it down to his knees before setting lips and teeth to the rounded flesh of Castiel’s buttocks.

“That isn’t fair, Dean,” Castiel mutters into the pillow. He gasps as the first press of Dean’s tongue. “Dean, wait.”

“Hey, I’m the one doing all the work here,” Dean says, breath hot against Castiel’s sensitive flesh. “Just lie there and relax.”

“Wait, wait.” Castiel awkwardly rolls over, batting Dean’s hands away when they immediately make a grab for his erection. “This is important.” Dean’s hands are roving over Castiel’s skin, forcing him to grab those hands and still them.

Dean’s smile slowly fades when he sees the look on Castiel’s face. “What is it?”

“I don’t remember my time from before, Dean,” Castiel says. He keeps his gaze level with Dean’s. “They took all my memories of my time as an angel when they pulled out my grace. No amount of hypnosis will fix that.”

Dean stares at him, betrayed. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you,” Castiel says, averting his eyes from the shocked look now on Dean’s face. “You were so happy, and I knew that if spoke up, it would ruin everything.”

Dean stares at him.

Castiel takes a shaky breath. “I’m so sorry that—”

“Shh.” Dean presses gentle fingers to Castiel’s mouth. “_I’m_ sorry you felt you had to do that. Yeah, I guess we – _I_ was caught up in the moment. You wouldn’t have been able to get a word in edgewise.”

Castiel smiles weakly. “Thank you, Dean.” He tries to make a move forward, hand reaching for Dean’s crotch, but he pulls away.

“No, not yet,” Dean says, firmly pushing Castiel’s hands away.

“But you need this,” Castiel says. “You did not get your celebratory sex, I believe you—”

“Cas, you’re more important than that.” Dean comes forward, but only to hug Castiel tightly. The motion is friendly and slightly possessive, but it does not have the easy intimacy of earlier. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. I’ll help fill in all those gaps in your head. We can take our time relearning stuff, get to know each other again.”

This time, Castiel’s smile is warm. “I’d like that.”

Dean squeezes his shoulder briefly, and then gets up to have a shower.

As soon as the bathroom door closes, Castiel leans over the bed and grabs a paperback. The cover declares that it’s one of Carver Edlund’s _Supernatural_ books. Castiel flips to the page where a bookmark has been placed, and then he’s reading swiftly.

* * *

The sky is pale grey outside the window, a hint of gold appearing on the horizon. Dean snaps awake, a slow grin appearing on his face. He turns his head to where Castiel is still snug under the covers, only the top of his head visible over the edge of the sheets.

Dean slowly sits up, but only far enough that he can brace himself on his elbow to watch Castiel sleep. After a moment’s contemplation, he reaches out to tug the edge of the sheet, and is shocked when long fingers lock around his wrist.

The blankets move, and then Castiel is staring up at Dean. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Dean says. He tugs experimentally at the hand holding his wrist, letting out a low huff of arousal when they do not budge. “I know it’s early, but...”

“It’s never too early for celebratory sex,” Castiel declares.

Dean starts to laugh, only to lose his breath when Castiel gets up and shoves him on to his back. Castiel climbs on top of Dean, fitting himself around Dean’s thighs before lowering himself down for a frantic, hungry kiss. When they pull away, it’s only to lose their clothes. Castiel’s pupils are blown, Dean cannot stop grinning, and they’re naked in record time.

“Have I ever told you you’re awesome, Cas?” Dean groans when Castiel sinks down on him. “’Cause you are.”

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel says, before he starts riding Dean in earnest.

The noises they make just barely drown out the creak of the bed as they rock against each other. Dean swears and praises Castiel in between his meaningless grunts, while Castiel gasps as he grinds down frantically, panting open-mouthed until he finally screams, back arching. Dean watches him come, waiting for him to slow down before he pushes Castiel on to his back and shoves in. Castiel hooks his ankles behind Dean’s back, smiling lazily as he has his own turn watching Dean achieve orgasm.

After, they lie next to each other, shoulder to shoulder as they get their breath back. Castiel nuzzles Dean’s cheek contentedly, which Dean lets happen without protest.

“Cas...” Dean says, voice a little hoarse.

Castiel playfully bites at Dean’s earlobe. “We can shower in a while. There’s no rush.”

“No, it’s...” Dean shuts his eyes. “You’re not going anywhere, are you?”

Castiel’s fingers reach up to turn Dean’s face, so that Castiel may kiss his mouth. “No, I’m not going anywhere.”

“What if they call you?” Dean asks, voice soft and worried. “What if they angel you up again?”

“They won’t,” Castiel says confidently. He takes Dean’s hand in his and squeezes. “I chose this, remember? I chose to be with you. No matter what.”

Dean enjoys the moment for about five seconds before he starts to squirm, uncomfortable. “Geez, Cas, it’s not like I’m asking for a promise ring or whatever.”

Castiel rolls his eyes as he gets up, offering a hand to Dean. “Come on. Let us obtain breakfast.”

“Now you’re talking.”

* * *

The sky is grey lined with gold outside the window. Dean stirs awake at the first drop of sunlight across his face. He is frowning when he opens his eyes and slowly sits up. He glances to his side, where Castiel is curled tightly inside the covers, and then turns back to the sight outside the window. After a while, he shakes Castiel gently. “Cas?”

He has to shake a few more times before Castiel finally stirs, bedsheets pushed down to reveal a tired face and messy hair. “Bzuh.”

“Sorry to wake you up early,” Dean says apologetically, “But I think there’s something funny going on. Which, considering we just stopped the freakin’ Apocalypse, would be a hell of a downer at this point.”

Castiel sighs, eyes still closed. “Can I have ten minutes, Dean? I’m tired.”

“No, come on, it looks like it’s summer outside,” Dean insists, trying to pull Castiel up by his arm. Castiel is a deadweight, so Dean lets him go with an irritated growl. “Fine, you want to sleep in? Go ahead.” He’s off the bed, padding barefoot out of the room.

Castiel falls asleep again. He jerks awake when Dean barges back into the room, face red.  
“Cas! What the fuck is going on?” he demands. “Where’s Sam and Bobby? What happened to the house?”

“Sam and Bobby are not here, Dean.” Castiel sits up slowly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “They moved out a while ago.”

“What? When?” Dean’s gaze is cold as he evaluates his surroundings. “This isn’t real, is it? This is some sort of freaky headtrip, isn’t it? Fuck.”

“Calm down, Dean,” Castiel says patiently. “There is an explanation, but you need to stop and listen to me.”

“What is this, djinn?” Dean sneers. “Witch? Gabriel having a little fun?” He pushes at Castiel’s shoulder, and is taken by surprise when Castiel grabs that hand and pulls sharply. Dean’s flails off-balance before falling on to the mattress in an undignified heap.

Castiel presses his hands to Dean’s mouth and hisses, “Look at me, Dean! I am me, Castiel, former angel of the Lord, fallen for you. This is indeed a headtrip, but not the kind you think. You have a form of amnesia.”

Dean bites the palm pressed to his mouth. Castiel gasps in pain, and then they’re wrestling on the bed. It isn’t aggressive enough to be an outright fight, but both openly take out their frustration on each other with unfriendly pushes and shoves.

Castiel somehow manages to get on top, Dean face-down underneath him and hands locked against his lower back. Dean curses and bucks, but Castiel presses down, relentless. Dean snarls, “Get off me, get off me!”

“For you, Lucifer was defeated last night, when in fact it has been almost two years since.” Castiel keeps his weight firm on Dean’s back, holding him down. “This isn’t Bobby’s house anymore. He moved a couple of miles up the road. He thought it would be better for us to settle down here, what with your situation.”

“Two years?” Dean laughs.

“Your mother used to do the Happy Bear dance for you whenever you were sad,” Castiel says. “You wanted to punch your father when he let Sam leave, but you were too scared. You spend a lot of time on my nipples because you like how they taste.”

Dean has stopped struggling. He is breathing heavily, but otherwise makes no sound.

“You’re very smart, Dean.” Castiel carefully releases Dean’s thumbs. “If you would think for a moment, you’d realize that what I’m saying is true.”

There is no movement for a long time. Castiel sits back and waits patiently until Dean finally moves, rolling over on to his back to stare accusingly at the ceiling. “It was Michael, wasn’t it? He fucked up my head when he vacated the premises.”

“Yes.” Castiel cautiously takes Dean’s hand and squeezes gently. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

“Fuck. _Fuck._” Dean looks at Castiel, a million questions in his eyes.

Castiel ignores them all in lieu of stretching languidly, twisting around until he can hear his spine crick. “We have a system in place. It’s not perfect, but it’s worked so far.”

“That’s so messed up.” Dean covers his face, muttering curses into his palms until Castiel lands on his chest. Dean pulls his fingers aside to look up at Castiel, who is calmly sucking on two of his fingers. Dean watches, mesmerized, as Castiel removes those fingers and slides them down, down... “Whoa, Cas!”

“You like this, Dean,” Castiel says. “You may not remember it, but I do. I remember everything for you these days.”

“I do _not_ like this,” Dean growls. “I’ve never—”

Then Castiel’s finger is all the way inside Dean, pressing in with unerring familiarity. “There.”

Dean gapes as Castiel fucks him steadily. The slide of the finger inside him is enough to get the message across, Dean’s body flushing with heat and opening up willingly.

“You’ve done this before,” Dean says, voice thin and breathless. “I’ve done this before.”

“Yes.” Castiel laughs a little at the look on Dean’s face, soothing him with a gentle bite to his jaw. “You’d think things would get really boring by now, wouldn’t you?”

* * *

The sky is pale grey outside the window.

Dean wakes up slowly, frowning at the ceiling. He smacks his lips a few times, making a face at the taste on his teeth. He tries to get up, but falls back, scowling harder. He cranes his neck, but the clock isn’t where it should be. He flings an arm out, hitting the figure tucked under the covers. “Ow!”

Dean snickers at the righteous indignation in Castiel’s voice. “Wakey, wakey, Cas. Do you know what time it is?”

“Time for celebratory sex?”

Dean looks at his cocooned companion in surprise. “Freaky. It’s like you read my mind.”

There’s a rustle under the covers as Castiel moves. Dean grabs at the shape blindly, not caring what body part he’s squeezing. He laughs when Castiel yelps.

When Dean pulls the sheets away, his grin disappears. “Cas, what happened to you? Oh shit, is this a side effect of your becoming human?”

Castiel smiles up at him. One hand reaches up to curl at the back of Dean’s neck, pulling him down into a kiss. Their mouths meet languidly, all lips and tongue and wet heat, until Castiel finally pulls away to say softly, “There’s something you should know, Dean.”

Dean’s face crumples. “I knew it was too good to be true.”

“Stop it, Dean,” Castiel says crossly. He sits up slowly, running a hand through hair that isn’t as dark as it used to be. “This is far more than we ever thought we’d have. You know it’s true.” He reaches over to the side dresser, pulling out a handheld mirror. He flips it around, showing Dean his own reflection.

“What the fuck? What in the... holy shit.”

Castiel gets up, slowly moving around the room while Dean’s shifts his gaze between the mirror and Castiel. This is Dean’s time to process, so Castiel leaves him to it, picking up fallen clothes and tossing them to the laundry basket. He only returns to the bed when Dean says, voice low and hoarse, “It was Michael, wasn’t it? He fried my brain while he was in there.”

“Yes,” Castiel answers.

Dean tosses the mirror away and sighs. “What happens now?”

Castiel offers his hand. Dean stares at it for a moment before accepting it and being hauled up to his feet. “Look at it this way... You’ll never have to worry about a thing beyond today. This is your time to rest.”

“But what about you?” Dean asks, worried. “How can you stand it?”

“Do you really need to ask, Dean?” Castiel smiles, quiet happiness in his wrinkle-lined eyes. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”


End file.
